Masks
by Kween Of Thorn
Summary: "The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask."- Jim Morrison. A series of drabbles involving Emma and visiting her life before Storybrook. Rated T for allusions to non consensual acts involving minors and abuse. First story, feedback is appreciated.
1. Princess

Princess

Emma dislikes being called _**Princess**_.

It reminds her that she was never who she was supposed to be.

It reminds her of the guilt and sadness that displays in her parent's eyes.

It reminds her of the child she was never allowed to be.

It reminds her of broken promises, dreams, hopes, and the realities that eventually came crashing around her.

Most of all, _**Princess**_, clings in her nightmares as she remembers rapid breathing, harsh grunts, and a mirage of heavy figures holding her down.

Chanting, "_It's okay __**Princess**__, I'll take care of you."_

_**Princess**_ wakes her up as she realizes it's the time to rebuild her walls yet again.

Once more to fight the monster in her head, the one that has become her best friend, the one that she resignedly accepts as the truth.

The one that tells her, "Emma will never be enough, but the _**Princess**_ will."

**Author's Note: Okay so I finally got the hang of this..I think. It's my first story so I'm trying. I figured I had this account for a while so post something. I will only ever say one time that I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS OR THIS SHOW OR ANYTHING AFFILIATED IN THIS FIC. I am merely doing a sort of introspection in Emma and her "life."**


	2. Mirrors

She's in a hall of mirrors, surrounded by _**reflections**_ of _her_. They all stare at her. She stares at all of them. Seven Mirrors surround her. Their eyes the same shade but the look all slightly different.

Mirror 1

Staring at a 3-year-old version of herself. Starting from the two slightly big sneakers on her feet to the longer than normal blue shorts and long sleeved orange t-shirt. Continuing up towards the face, the curly blond hair of her younger self pulled into two ponytails; Emma sees the eyes that used to be filled with light, so much unlike her own. _But they were your eyes. _These blue-green eyes that shine so bright you think you are looking in an ocean. An ocean of infinite innocence.

A child who hasn't let her rocky start in this world stop her. Watching her 3-year-old self toddle towards those who she thought were going to be her forever family, her happiness. Emma tries to reach out, to stop her! **Stop** this chain of events. Stop this **pain**. She reaches out.

She wants to wake from this _nightmare_.

Her fingers graze the glass.

It **shatters**.

So Emma turns to the next one….

**Author's Note: So if you got this far thank you. The "Mirrors" portion of this Fic are basically little interludes between chapters. Each interlude will be a different "mirror." Thanks for reading.**


	3. Dreams, Memories, and Nightmares

Dreams, Memories, and Nightmares

Emma doesn't dream.

At least she doesn't dream like normal people. She doesn't dream about unicorns or rainbows like little girls, or saving the world like little boys. She doesn't dream about being in class in only her underwear or something of that humiliating nature, like most of the population.

No, Emma doesn't have dreams. She has memories. She relives _**everything**_, everything that she hopes to escape in her sleep. It haunts her.

She relives the moment she first got sent back to the group home at age three and how the older kids beat her up and said, _"you were sent back because they had their own baby now, they don't want or need you."_

She relives being burned with an iron rod because she asked her foster mother if she could go play because she finished her chores. _That was a mistake_.

She relives getting locked in a cupboard for _"being bad"_ and not being let out until her small, bloody hands had stopped banging against the door.

She relives being dragged down to a basement and being put on display like an object, she was only nine years old. She didn't know what was happening but it _hurt_ and _**she screamed no**_ so much until they shut her up.

She relives getting taken from home after home for one reason or another. _15 homes in the span of one year say something is wrong with her._

She relives her constant questioning of _"what is wrong with me?"_

She relives when she _**finally broke**_ because it was _long_ before Neal.

She relives _**every**_ moment of abandonment, broken promises, lies and pain.

Emma relives every scar that's ever been inflicted upon her, mental and physical.

Emma doesn't have dreams. She has memories.

It just so happens her memories are nightmares.

**Author's Note: I have added author's notes in the previous two chapters. Chapter 1 basically is just the disclaimer. The disclaimer will not be appearing anywhere else in this story. Chapter 2 just explains the chapter. Thank you for expressing interest in my story.**


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